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July 29, 2009

God Beat With Jeannie Bladdersham: It's Warm Where You're Headed

Praise! Greetings to God Beatniks everywhere! The glory of Jesus Christ reveals itself in the strangest ways. First, the Peducah Praise Singers (the all-girl evangelical choir with whom yours truly sings mezzo-soprano) just wrapped up its African tour. As you recall, we sold enough "Jesus Asks What I Would Do" t-shirts at the Fayetteville Rapture Daze BBQ to fund a whirlwind inspirational concert tour of Sudan, Zimbabwe, Angola, Chad and Somalia. When we arrived in a lovely town called Mogadishu, it took some doing to convince Trudy Plank (alto soloist, whore) to join us in the goat wagon they'd provided for transport, as Trudy insisted it's not Christian for a white woman to be drawn by a team of negros (I reminded Trudy that if Mary could ride a donkey into Nazareth, she could ride a negro to the Somali Best Western).

Our first concert (held at the spectacular Allah Akbar Soccer Field and Wife-Stoning Arena) got the tour off to a rocky start when halfway through our first song ("Ride Me Home, Jesus," currently 28 on the Pentecostal Hit List), our coloratura Millicent Stump was conscripted by Somali pirates. Crowds were smaller than we'd hoped, but at our concert in Darfur we learned that if we handed out Nutter Butter sandwich cookies during our second encore of "Christ Loves a Fetus" the turn-out improved significantly. Hallelujah!

The remainder of the tour was uneventful, save for one dramatic incident wherein Lyla Finkleton (contralto, prideful glutton) was tranquilizer-darted and tagged by a field scientist in Zimbabwe who mistook her for a rare pink rhino. I'm happy to have my feet back on the Christian soil of greater Peducah. Heavens, Africa is a depressing place! It's just like "Gone With the Wind," if you replaced all those mansions and caucasians and pretty clothes with malaria, hyenas and zebra poop. Praise!

In ferret news, I'm sad to report that my latest ferret Baroness Betty Bounce-alot is no longer among us. I'd entrusted her care to my dear Aunt Betsy during our African tour. Apparently she met her demise while frolicking in the bath tub when somehow a blender set to puree fell in, zapping her home to glory. It was awfully thoughtful of Aunt Betsy to have her cremated and scattered in her cabbage garden. What's more, she served a divine (though slightly gamey) homemade sausage she'd whipped up for my homecoming. Glory!

But enough of that fiddle-faddle! Let's get to the meat of things and discuss who's going where, and why they're in a hand-basket!

KIDNEY ON THE ROOF: As we all know, the Jews can get everything wholesale. Even kidneys! When a recent FBI sting rounded up half a dozen New Jersey Rabbis, it was discovered that at least one of them (Rabbi Levy Izhak Rosenbaum, self-proclaimed organ "matchmaker") had been craftily purchasing kidneys from impressionable Israelites for the bargain-basement price of $10,000 a pop and selling them at a 1,600% markup! Of course the retail-paying recipients face the unpleasant fate of having their hell-bound kosher kidneys reclaimed and cast into eternal damnation before they can enter Glory.

CAMP BEELZEBUB: When I think of summer camp I think of Godly places such as Id-ra-ha-je, with panty raids and bible drills and campfire hymn-a-longs and zap stools. Apparently the snaggle-toothed British people have taken a break from meat boiling and not-flossing to create a summer camp for the lil' heretics. The peculiarly-named Camp Quest is an "atheist alternative" for parents who dream of consigning their children to Lucifer's bosom. I hope their kids brush up on their canoeing skills, as they'll surely come in handy whilst navigating the river Styx and paddling across the Lake o' Fire.

LATTER DAY TONGUE WRESTLING: A few weeks ago, two Utah homosexuals (heavens, that's like being a tropical penguin!) stuck their tongues down each others throats whilst strolling through a plaza owned by the Mormons. When some burly security guards pinned them to the ground and asked them to leave (which is going about it the hard way, IMHO), the Leviticus-defying butt wranglers returned with an army of sodomites to rudely swap saliva in a massive kiss-in on the site. And it's become a weekly event. The Mormons, who are a little bit country and a little bit rock and roll (and 100% hell-bound), have reacted by getting shouty and yelly. After all, everyone knows that while Jesus wants us to love thy neighbor he hardly expects us to pop a boner while doing it. I pray the two warring factions discover all they have in common, namely the fact that they're all going to burn. Praise!

SUMMER STOCK IN HADES: Recent inductees to the underworld have formed a theatrical troupe and opened the Screamin' Demon Dinner Theatre. The first production to trod the boards will be Farrah Fawcett and David Carradine in a stunning production of Mame, followed by Dames at Sea, starring Michael Jackson and Walter Cronkite in the title roles. Although Merce Cunningham was recently signed to choreograph, Joan Rivers and Abe Vigoda's production of The Gin Game's been indefinitely postponed due to their unrealistic refusal to die. Look forward to next season's production of Hairspray starring Amy Winehouse! Fingers crossed!

Rabbi Rosenbaum sez: "Don't be a schlemazel. Show some chutzpah and subscribe to this blog's feed or I'll give you such a zetz on your genecktigazoink!"

Ah, my dear Joan Rivers...she opened a COWA on a reporter in Sacramento by suggesting that her daughter was riding on her coattails to fame and fortune. Even with all the pulling of her skin, apparently Joan still could not see that this was, in fact, the truth. After all, the girl changed her name from Melissa Rosenberg to Melissa Rivers.

I wonder if Joan has made her own "Mini Me" with all of the extra skin that has been removed.